Operation Taylor Ham
by Red Witch
Summary: Archer's secret assassination mission is marred by his desire to get a decent breakfast sandwich.


**Archer took off somewhere with the disclaimer saying that I don't own any Archer characters. This is another mad idea about a secret mission that went horribly wrong. And a love letter to one of my favorite kinds of foods!**

 **Operation Taylor Ham**

"Slater relax!" Mallory said into the phone. "How hard can this be? It's not like Sterling hasn't assassinated mob bosses before. This is just the first time he's getting commissioned to do it."

Mallory sighed as Slater shouted into the phone. "Yes. Yes. I will handle it. I know. No one is to know about this. Obviously. I'm not going to tell Lana! She always whines about assassinations! And everyone else in my agency are gossips!"

"Don't worry this will be easy for Sterling," Mallory waved. "The target's location isn't that far from his apartment. He can do it before work. He comes in late all the time. Everyone will just think he's been drinking."

"Well of course he drinks," Mallory sniffed as Slater said something else. "You say alcoholic like it's a bad thing."

"Don't worry," Mallory waved. "This will be easy. Yes. One hundred grand. Payable to me. On second thought make it out to cash. It will be easier to divide the money. Don't worry! We've got this! It will be done by tomorrow morning! I said we'll do it! Fine!"

She hung up the phone with an annoyed grunt. "What a micromanager!"

She pressed the intercom. "Sterling! Come to my office!"

Nothing for a moment. "Sterling! Come in here! **Sterling!** " Mallory shouted.

"You bellowed?" Archer entered the room carrying a glass of scotch.

"Come in here and shut the door behind you!" Mallory ordered. "This is a secret meeting. I have a mission for you that is totally top secret so the idiots do not need to know about it."

"And of course they would totally ignore you bellowing that I have a mission at the top of your lungs…" Archer rolled his eyes as he closed the door.

"Oh shut up!" Mallory waved. "I yell at you all the time. Nothing abnormal about that."

"And that statement in itself doesn't wave any kind of red flags?" Archer asked as he casually sat down. "So what do our CIA overlords want me to do this week?"

"All right Sterling this is a simple assignment that I don't want you to tell anyone about!" Mallory told her son. "There's fifty grand on the line so you'd better not blow this."

"That depends," Archer quipped. "Does the assignment have to do with me blowing…?"

"It's an assassination! Do you have to make everything so disgustingly crude?" Mallory interrupted. "Ass!"

"I was going to say someone's brains out," Archer gave her a look.

"Oh," Mallory frowned. "Well then it is exactly what you thought."

"I don't always equate sex with work you know?" Archer asked.

"I'm sorry," Mallory groaned.

"I mean I know I do a lot of the time but not always," Archer went on.

"Again. I apologize," Mallory gritted her teeth.

"You're the one who went there," Archer shrugged. "Just saying."

"Can I continue?" Mallory showed Archer the picture on her wall screen. "This is the target. Maxim Slorvorobia of the Russian Mob. The CIA wants him dead. Preferably before tomorrow afternoon."

"Why? Drugs? Protection? Gun running? He shot an informant or two?" Archer asked.

"Probably but that's not why they want him dead," Mallory admitted.

"Well what did he do to get on their hit list?" Archer asked.

"He used to trade favors for the CIA and inform them about some of his mob buddies for protection," Mallory waved. "At least until the FBI offered him a better deal."

"That old story?" Archer snorted.

"I know. You'd think the CIA would take better care of their contacts," Mallory shook her head. "Or at the very least pay them more so they wouldn't lose them all the time to the FBI."

"So why do they want him dead by tomorrow?" Archer asked.

"Because he's leaving the country tomorrow afternoon," Mallory said. "Tomorrow morning he will be having a meeting at breakfast with some of his mob contacts at eight in the morning at Pappy's restaurant."

"That early? Geeze…" Archer groaned. "Wait that restaurant sounds familiar."

"It should. It's only two blocks from your apartment!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh yeah. I get their breakfast burritos sometimes," Archer realized. "And you know what they have is really great? Taylor Ham and egg sandwiches. On French toast bagels!"

"Well you can pick some up tomorrow morning during your assassination!" Mallory said sarcastically. "Now Sterling…"

"I know the drill Mother," Archer rolled his eyes. "Make it look like a mob hit. This isn't exactly the first time I've done this you know?"

"Yes, but this time it's not to cover your tracks and erase whatever gambling or prostitution tab you've rung up!" Mallory snapped.

"Really? You're going **there**?" Archer laughed. "I mean come on! You're the one who taught me that trick!"

"That was different!" Mallory snapped.

"How?" Archer asked.

"Those fake mob hits were to cover my tracks for missions!" Mallory said. "And maybe one or two paybacks against the bastards who made the mistake of cheating on me? The point is…"

"You know I haven't had Taylor Ham sandwiches in a long time," Archer went on. "It's funny how some things just stick in your head."

"I wish these mission briefings would stick in your head!" Mallory snapped.

"I could really go for a Taylor Ham sandwich," Archer went on. "Those are good for lunch too."

"Yes, fine…" Mallory grumbled. "Now Sterling…"

"You know what's also good with Taylor Ham? Hamburgers!" Archer said. "I know this place that makes…"

"Will you focus and pay attention!" Mallory shouted. "Tomorrow morning! At eight precisely! Assassinate Maxim Slorvorobia at Pappy's! Make it look like a mob hit! Got it?"

"Yes!" Archer rolled his eyes.

"And if you mess this mission up you will get it!" Mallory warned.

"Got it!" Archer groaned. "Hey you know what we should call this mission?"

"Don't say it…" Mallory groaned.

"Operation Taylor Ham!" Archer grinned.

"We are not calling it Operation Taylor Ham!" Mallory snapped. "The official name of this mission is…" She opened a file on her computer and did a double take. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Archer asked.

"It **is** called Operation Taylor Ham…" Mallory groaned.

"Well Pappy's does have good Taylor Ham sandwiches," Archer pointed out.

"Somebody going on a run to Pappy's?" Pam opened the door and stuck her head in.

"No!" Mallory snapped.

"Yes!" Archer said at the same time. "Mother yes. **What else** could we be talking about?"

Mallory made a grunt of disgust. "So I'm going to get some Taylor Ham sandwiches," Archer grinned, clearly enjoying his little victory.

"Can you get some on hamburgers for me?" Pam asked. "I love those. Those are great!"

"Aren't they?" Archer grinned.

"What's great?" Lana asked as Cyril, Ray, Krieger and Cheryl walked in with her.

"Taylor Ham and hamburger sandwiches," Pam said.

"Ooh I could go for those," Krieger spoke up.

"Those are pretty good," Cyril admitted.

"I like 'em with eggs better," Ray said.

"I don't know what Taylor Ham is," Cheryl blinked. "Is that like a singer or something?"

"It's not a singer Cheryl," Pam said.

"Well you don't know that," Cheryl said. "Everyone's taste in music is different."

"It's not a person you billionaire bimbo! It's a sliced pork roll!" Mallory snapped.

"Eww…" Cheryl said.

"What do you mean eeww? You eat ham and bacon right?" Pam asked.

"Yeah," Cheryl blinked.

"Well Taylor Ham is basically if ham and bacon had a baby," Pam explained. "A very delicious baby."

"Wow that imagery is disturbing even for me," Krieger blinked.

"And that is a high bar to pass," Ray admitted.

"Isn't that a New Jersey thing?" Lana asked.

"This is New York! They have everything here!" Archer said. "And come on, New Jersey is literally next door so…"

"Well why don't we get some right now then so I can see how this delicious ham baby tastes?" Cheryl spoke up.

"That's what Mother was asking me to do," Archer grinned as he stood up.

"No I wasn't! I…" Mallory began.

"Have no other reason to ask me to go to Pappy's down the block," Archer quickly added. "I mean there is **no other reason** to talk about Taylor Ham. _Right Mother_?"

"Just bring me back a regular sandwich…" Mallory groaned in defeat.

"Let's get lunch," Archer said as the gang started to leave.

"I could eat," Pam said.

"Alert the presses," Archer quipped. "Front page headline news here."

"Is the universe conspiring to drive me crazy?" Mallory groaned. "Or is it just my staff out to get me?"

"Can't it be both?" Cheryl asked innocently. Mallory growled. Cheryl laughed as she left.

The following morning…

"Here's the files you wanted," Cheryl walked in carrying something and put it on Mallory's desk.

"All right. Here is everything that is wrong with that statement you made," Mallory frowned. "First of all I didn't ask for any files. Secondly…These are **not** files. These are post it notes. In the shape of a duck."

"Oh," Cheryl blinked. "I thought it was strange that they were all blank."

"I'm only asking because I think it will help convince the psychiatrist that I was driven to murder you…" Mallory sighed. "Why did you get duck shaped post it notes?"

"Because all the kitty cats were sold out," Cheryl said honestly.

"Of course," Mallory sighed.

"It was a rather stupid question," Cheryl pointed out.

"And you are the expert on them," Mallory quipped. "Has Sterling come in yet?"

"Mr. Archer hasn't shown up. He's later than usual," Cheryl admitted. "For a Wednesday anyway. I mean if it was a Friday or a Monday I guess it's pretty average. But still it's late for a Wednesday."

"Considering today is Tuesday I'm going to assume he's just late," Mallory said acidly.

"That would be a good call," Cheryl nodded.

"Well send him to my office the minute he arrives!" Mallory snapped. "You can do that right?"

"Yes," Cheryl said in a bored tone.

"What did I just say?" Mallory asked. "Repeat it back to me."

"Why? Did you get a brain aneurysm?" Cheryl asked.

"Cheryl!" Mallory snapped.

"All right! I'll send him in when he arrives! Jesus!" Cheryl groaned. "It's not my fault the stupid store didn't have the post it notes you wanted!"

"I didn't want…Oh forget it!" Mallory groaned as Cheryl walked away. "There's one woman who will never have to worry about a brain aneurysm. Mostly because she doesn't have one."

A few minutes later Mallory buzzed Cheryl's intercom. "Cheryl is Sterling here yet?"

"No…" Cheryl sighed in a bored tone.

"Again as soon as he gets here…"

"I will! Cool it with the micromanaging! I'm not ear crippled!" Cheryl snapped.

"No, you're just brain damaged!" Mallory snapped as she shut off the intercom. "Where the hell could he be? It can't take that long to assassinate Russian Mobsters. I mean I could see it if he used a sword or something and had to wash it. Or a large knife or something and the blood got on his clothes. It's almost impossible to get Russian bloodstains out. Must be what they drink."

"I'm here! I'm here!" Archer was heard before he walked in with a small box. "Ugh what a morning! I am having the worst day today!"

"Ms. Archer! He's here!" Cheryl buzzed in as soon as he walked in.

"Thank you Cheryl! For **nothing!** " Mallory said sarcastically. "Shut the door Sterling! Never mind I'll do it!" She pushed a button on her desk to close the door.

"Do you have any idea what I went through this morning?" Archer said as he put the box on the desk.

"Tell me all about it," Mallory motioned.

"Well first Woodhouse forgot to wake me up this morning," Archer began as he sat down and took out something from the box. "Then I remembered he's missing. So not only did I have to make my own coffee, I had to iron my own clothes! Because you know…? Expensive suits just don't press themselves!"

"Yes just go on to Pappy's…" Mallory motioned.

"Then it turned out that not only was I out of coffee! I was out of bourbon and scotch! Because you know…?" Archer grumbled as he unwrapped a breakfast sandwich. "Thanks a lot Woodhouse!"

"Sterling…"

"Of course I knew I was running low on supplies so after work I have to schlep on down to Al's Alcohol Barn and I think I need more than my usual scotch and bourbon," Archer went on taking bites in between. "I'm running low on wine."

"That's not important…" Mallory began.

"I think I need one of those reminder things for my phone," Archer went on. "You know? Some kind of thing where you just say what you need to do and when to do it in your phone. And the phone reminds you. What do they call those things?"

"Again not important…" Mallory said.

"I mean Lana has one of those things and she says they're great," Archer said. "And even Pam and Krieger use them so…"

"Forget about the stupid phone and tell me about Pappy's!" Mallory snapped.

"Oh right. Then for some reason the traffic was horrible!" Archer groaned. "For some reason I got behind some idiots who were going three miles an hour and had their headlights on! Ugh! It took me forever to get there!"

"That's because it was a funeral precession you nitwit!" Mallory snapped.

"That explains the hearse I cut off," Archer remarked.

"Just tell me what happened at Pappy's," Mallory was losing patience.

"Well the line was almost out the door for some reason," Archer went on eating his sandwich. "Even though it was past the breakfast rush they just…"

"Wait! Hold on! **Past** the breakfast rush?" Mallory shouted. "Sterling **what time** did you arrive at Pappy's?"

"I dunno. Ten thirty I think," Archer shrugged. "Because for some reason they didn't want to serve egg sandwiches past…"

"Ten thirty! Ten freaking thirty?" Mallory shouted. "You were supposed to be there at eight!"

"Why?" Archer asked. "Oh wait…That mob boss…That was **today**? Damn it! I knew there was something I forgot!"

"YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE MISSION AND JUST CONCENTRATED ON THE GOD DAMN SANDWICHES DIDN'T YOU?" Mallory shouted.

"Damn it. It's official. Now I **have** to get one of those reminder things for my phone," Archer groaned.

"Sterling Mallory Archer…" Mallory gritted her teeth.

"It's not my fault!" Archer protested. "Ever since Woodhouse disappeared my schedule has gone to Hell in a handbasket!"

"If you cost us this commission that's not the **only thing** that is going to Hell in a handbasket!" Mallory snapped. "I can think of a few body parts I can stuff in there before I have to send the rest by Federal Express!"

"Now hold on now. Maybe he's still there?" Archer asked.

"No! His flight leaves at eleven!" Mallory snapped.

"It's possible he's still there!" Archer snapped. "There were a lot of cops already there talking to people due to the accident."

"What accident?" Mallory asked.

"That's the other reason I was late," Archer told her. "Apparently some guy wasn't paying attention talking on his cell phone while he was driving and ran over some guy right in front of the restaurant. It took me forever to get to Pappy's! And out!"

"Wait…No…It's not possible…" Mallory began to think.

"Not to mention the cops gave me a ticket for parking my car illegally! Which was totally not my fault because those stupid ambulances took up all those parking spaces!" Archer fumed. "Typical!"

"I need to check the local news!" Mallory snapped.

"Why?" Archer asked.

"I need to know who got hit! Maybe we can still salvage this…?" Mallory worked on her computer. "Here we go! Police report! Accident report…Oh my God! I don't believe it!"

"What?" Archer asked.

"Maxim Slorvorobia was one of two people hit by that driver!" Mallory gasped.

"Wow that was a freebie," Archer remarked.

"For the CIA!" Mallory snapped. "Unless…Maybe? Ah it says here he was taken to General Hospital…Where he was pronounced dead. Damn it!"

"So? Isn't that the whole point of the mission to have him killed?" Archer asked. "That should make the CIA happy."

"Sterling they're not going to pay us a hundred grand for an assassination some idiot talking on his cell phone did for free!" Mallory snapped.

"I thought you said it was fifty grand?" Archer asked.

"It doesn't matter because we're not going to get one red cent!" Mallory snapped.

"Maybe we can tell them it was part of the plan?" Archer asked.

"That's the stupidest…" Mallory bristled. Her phone rang. "On the other hand…"

"Ms. Archer! CIA on line one!" Cheryl called out. "Something about not paying for an assassination some other guy did."

"Some days I hate this job so much…" Mallory growled. She glared at her son. "You know this is all your fault, Sterling?"

"So I guess you don't want your breakfast sandwich?" Archer asked.

Mallory replied with a groan of distaste. "What I really want besides a competent son is for you to shove that sandwich right up your…"

She then changed her tone quickly as she answered the phone. "Hello Slater! I take it you've seen the…What? Well…That was the plan obviously to make it look like an accident! How do you know that Sterling wasn't…? Oh. You have cameras planted there. Recorded the whole thing. Including Sterling coming in late…I see. Well he's still dead so…Yes. Yes. I understand. I suppose it would be unfair for you to pay a hundred grand for…How about fifty? Twenty five? Ten? Hello? Hello? Slater?"

Mallory slammed down her phone. "Sterling Mallory Archer!" She roared. Only to find that Archer had left the room with the breakfast sandwiches.

" **GET BACK HERE YOU INCOMPETENT LITTLE INGRATE!"** Mallory shouted as she stormed out of the room. She saw Pam and Cheryl eating sandwiches at Cheryl's desk. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

"Out the door," Pam pointed in between bites.

Mallory snarled and slapped the sandwich from Pam's hand. "Hey!" Pam snapped.

"Blow it out your ass!" Mallory stormed off. "STERLING! YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE!"

"Wonder what set her off on bitch mode?" Pam remarked as she picked up her sandwich from the floor. And started eating it again.

"I dunno. Some people are really picky about what they eat," Cheryl shrugged. She looked at Pam eating her sandwich. "And others…not so much."


End file.
